


Better Things to Do

by budgeridoo



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 15:09:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1692797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/budgeridoo/pseuds/budgeridoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt was GerIta with Germany using his strength during sex. Self-explanatory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Things to Do

There were a lot of really fun things about Germany, Veneziano thought.  
  
There was how ridiculously easy it was to make him blush and stutter and lose his train of thought; how his hugs were always solid and warm and comfortable; how on the rare occasions Veneziano was out later than Germany he could come back and find him asleep still with his reading glasses on, although that wasn’t as cute as it could have been because it meant Germany had been working too hard and hadn’t taken a break.  
  
There was also how he could physically lift Veneziano off of the ground, which was not only fun but  _very_  useful for everything from helping Veneziano reach high shelves to…different pursuits.  
  
Which Veneziano was rather set on right now.  
  
And would it kill Germany to look up from his stupid boring paperwork that was probably about the sewer system in Bonn or something else that really anyone else could handle and then Germany wouldn’t have to take it home with him and it wouldn’t make him miss dinner but  _no_  for some reason Germany just didn’t  _do_  delegation and neither was he doing Veneziano which was really the point of the whole part where he decided to sit on Germany’s desk right between him and the paperwork and Germany still didn’t seem to  _get_  it and Veneziano didn’t know if he was actually oblivious or faking it to make him huffy.  
  
 _Probably_  faking it, considering the way his thin lips twitched up at the corner.  
  
“What do you think you’re doing?”  
  
 _Seducing you_  wouldn’t be  _exactly_  correct since Veneziano actually technically hadn’t yet, so he chirped “Trying to seduce you!” and kind of regretted giving it away that quickly but then Germany went all red and cute so it wasn’t completely bad.  
  
“Ah.” And Germany coughed, and cleared his throat, and tried to reach (sort of, a bit) for those stupid,  _stupid_  papers and said “I’m guessing it can’t wait?” with still the faintest hint of a smile on his face.  
  
“Not really,” hummed Veneziano, “unless it really really  _really_  has to.” He scooted forwards. “A  _lot_.” Paused, waited until it looked like Germany’s train of thought was back somewhere near the tracks. “Does it?”  
  
Germany looked up at him, one eyebrow raised the slightest bit, and then back at the paperwork, contemplatively, and then back up, and he said “I can finish these after dinner,” and moved his hand from the paperwork to Veneziano’s knee.  
  
Veneziano blew out his cheeks and kicked one of his feet out, “Well, as long as you  _come_  to dinner instead of sitting in here working all the time!” But this was still distracting from the  _point_ , so he scooted even closer (and might have crumpled some papers in the process) and hooked his foot into the armrest of Germany’s chair and pulled it closer —  
  
— which would have worked  _so much better_  if Veneziano’s ankle had been stronger or Germany hadn’t been quite so  _big_ , and Veneziano nearly fell off the desk instead of pulling Germany closer, and Germany caught him before he could go sprawling, which was nice.  
  
Also it gave him an excuse to go the whoops-I-fell-innocently-into-Germany’s-lap route.  
  
Germany’s hands were large and steadying midway between his waist and his hips, and with minimal rearrangement Veneziano made himself comfortable straddling Germany’s lap. He settled his hands on Germany’s shoulders, almost to where they joined with his neck.  
  
“You don’t come to dinner often enough,” Veneziano said simply.  
  
“I’m sorry,” and Germany was still all red in the face (and going down his neck and back to his ears and it was  _so cute_ ) and said face was closer than it had been before, as well.  
  
“’S not your fault,” and Veneziano kept moving closer by inches, hands shifting up Germany’s neck to his jaw and cheek while Germany’s hands just rubbed up and down Veneziano’s sides until his shirt came untucked there. “Just, there’re too many leftovers and eating alone is sad and you need to eat anyway.”  
  
“I’ll try to be there more often.”  
  
“Good!” Veneziano closed the tiny remaining distance between them, pressing his lips to Germany’s and sliding his hands back into Germany’s hair, ungelling it, and letting his hands flit all along the back of Germany’s head and his jawline and cheeks and hair. Germany pulled him closer, a solid, warm presence all around him, holding him close and safe.  
  
It was nearly impossible for Veneziano not to smile into the kisses, like that.  
  
So he did, brightly, giving Germany pauses when he needed to take them, and  _yes_  it was partly out of satisfaction that Germany had allowed him to get this far but mostly it was that the kisses also were nice and warm and secure and his partner’s hands were beginning to haltingly travel up beneath his shirt, and the kisses began to become deeper, still soft but deeper and longer until Veneziano actually did worry about breathing just a little bit. Which didn’t stop him from drawing them out as long as he could, biting as softly as he could at Germany’s lips and leaning up and in until there was no distance between the two of them and he could feel Germany’s powerful arms all around him.  
  
Breaking the kiss, Veneziano planted a light, quick one on Germany’s cheek, and Germany smiled and ducked his head enough for Veneziano to move to kissing the bridge of his nose, his forehead, his cheekbones, his jaw…  
  
When he was done, Germany was red all over, and Veneziano laughed quietly and patted his face. Germany’s lips twitched into another tiny smile, and he leaned forward and pecked Veneziano on the lips, and when Veneziano chased the movement for more Germany caught his wrists — gently, enough pressure to hold but nothing more — and laced his broad fingers with Veneziano’s long ones. Veneziano missed a little being able to run his hands through Germany’s hair, but this wasn’t a bad trade-off.  
  
His legs were swinging, toes barely brushing the floor, and that wasn’t so comfortable, but with a little shift Germany’s lap became  _very_  comfortable indeed (well, not  _literally_ , but the warmth unfolding in his stomach was so comfortable that it really did seem so) and Veneziano huffed out another laugh into Germany’s mouth. Allowing Germany to sink one hand into Veneziano’s thick hair and settle the other at the small of his back, Veneziano quite happily set about melting into the kisses, which was easy anyway.  
  
Another thing that was very, very easy was letting his own hands wander to the buttons of Germany’s shirt, which was actually a little tough because also Veneziano didn’t want to move back at all so his arms were kind of squished, but this way he could find an excuse to move his mouth a little bit closer to Germany’s neck as well so it really balanced out. He’d only managed to get the top three buttons undone before Germany hauled him so close it was really way too uncomfortable to keep his arms there, but the top three buttons were still undone, which was fine by Veneziano.  
  
And then he really didn’t have a chance to do much more beyond grab for Germany’s shoulders, because Germany grabbed for  _his_  butt and squeezed, not  _hard_ but really really difficult not to notice. And Veneziano did notice, bursting into chuckles against Germany’s mouth because it  _tickled_  when Germany did that, and then more because laughing also tickled when he was this close and besides Germany was smiling, he could tell, so why not?  
  
“Do you want to get out of this chair?” It took a little while for Veneziano to register that Germany spoke — he’d been kind of distracted — but once it did click, he nodded enthusiastically. Of course, then he had to try and nod a little  _less_  enthusiastically because he accidentally sort of headbutted Germany in the nose, but hopefully the fact that Veneziano was grinning so big his head kind of felt like it might fall off a bit tipped Germany off that he was still really enthusiastic about that idea.  
  
Germany scooped him up, and Veneziano laughed out a “ _Whoa_!” and wrapped his arms around Germany’s shoulders as extra insurance that he wouldn’t fall. He needed a bit more than usual, anyway, since this wasn’t the piggyback that Germany would grudgingly offer Veneziano or the once-in-a-blue-moon bridal carry or the simple lift to the top shelf of the pantry. This was more Germany’s hands still on Veneziano’s ass save a few adjustments of grip, and Veneziano’s arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist because he did still feel pretty safe when Germany held him but not quite as safe from falling over right now.  
  
So it was pretty fortunate, all in all, that Germany’s chair was close enough to the wall that it wasn’t long before Veneziano didn’t have to cling on quite as hard and it was for a lot of other reasons instead that he kept holding onto Germany, back to the wall and steadying himself with Germany’s weight. Like how Germany’s hips were rolling into Veneziano’s, minutely. That was a  _great_  reason to get as close as possible, sliding his hands upwards and twining them into Germany’s hair, trusting that he wouldn’t let Veneziano fall while he kissed him again and again until his lips ached.  
  
“I —  _mmm_  — Germany, I think you should take off your pants  _right now_ ,” Veneziano breathed as soon as he pulled away, and he should probably take his own off as well but he couldn’t reach them right then, which was  _tragic_.  
  
The sad thing was, Germany pulled back at that. Veneziano slid down the wall a bit, until his feet touched the floor again, and pouted a little at the loss. It wasn’t a huge one, considering, since Germany was still very very close.  
  
The good thing was, Germany pulled back to say “Do you have any — ah —”  
  
“Third drawer on the right.” Veneziano waved his foot vaguely in the direction of the desk.  
  
“…Veneziano, I didn’t put anything of that sort in there —”  
  
“I did!” Germany gave him a sort of  _look_ , so Veneziano decided he’d better keep going. “About two weeks ago, you know, when I bent you over the desk and fingered you until you screamed — you remember that? That was really good, by the way — but I had to go all the way back to the bedroom to get a glove, and so after that I decided to put some in your desk! And lube and condoms. See, I’m using foresight!” And he beamed.  
  
Germany actually laughed at that, even if it was one of those quiet huffy ones and even if his face was still very, very red, and he was still close enough that Veneziano could see the little crinkles that formed around his light blue eyes. “I — you are. Third drawer?”  
  
“Mm. On the right.” He missed Germany’s warmth all along his front when Germany actually moved away from him to go through the drawer, but it did give him a chance to start properly undoing his pants.   
  
He’d got them down to his ankles, as well as his boxers, and one of his shoes off by the time Germany returned, and then decided that having Germany as close as possible was imperative and the clothes would sort themselves out later, so he pulled Germany close by the undone collar of his shirt and pushed his hips against Germany’s, tongue between his teeth. Germany let Veneziano haul him close, but caught him against the wall with one hand on his shoulder and made Veneziano gasp, hands curling in the fabric of Germany’s shirt.  
  
Veneziano smiled at that as well, raising one hand to touch the back of Germany’s gently before trailing it along Germany’s arm and down his side to dip inside the front of his pants — Germany was almost fully hard, and it was kind of endearing how quick that could happen sometimes, but Veneziano didn’t really have room to talk about that right now and  _ohhh_  something else endearing about Germany was how  _good_  he was with his hands —  _very_  good — and  _fast_  with them too, his left hand had only been gone from Veneziano’s shoulder for a second or two, it felt like, before he’d got lube onto his right hand and only a few seconds more before his left hand was back at Veneziano’s shoulder and his right index finger buried in Veneziano.  
  
And it was fast and a little unexpected and  _good_ , Germany had thick fingers and he knew how to use them, and Veneziano tried to squirm back onto the finger inside him, raising his leg to let Germany deeper.  
  
(One time he’d managed to get his leg onto Germany’s shoulder while still standing, since Germany had made him exercise earlier that day and he’d still been more flexible than usual, and the look on Germany’s face had made the post-coital ache in that leg very worthwhile.)  
  
That probably wasn’t going to happen today, though, so instead he tipped his head back to enjoy the feeling of Germany scraping his teeth along the rounded line of Veneziano’s jaw — Germany had to bend down a little to do that, why was he so  _tall_  it just wasn’t  _fair_  and then Veneziano got distracted again because there was a second finger inside him and it brushed against that familiar spot at the same time that Germany bit softly on Veneziano’s neck and he really couldn’t help gasping “ _Ah!_ ” and grabbing at Germany’s back to keep himself from falling over.  
  
His legs felt very wobbly right now, and he was regretting a little bit leaving the chair, although he could still get his legs a little wider like this so Germany could slide two —  _oh!_  — three fingers in almost up to the knuckle and  _twist_  them just so and Veneziano moaned shamelessly — well, almost everything he did was more or less shameless, so maybe this was just more shameless than usual, and he really couldn’t move all that much to get Germany in any deeper since Germany kind of had him pinned against the wall and it didn’t even seem like a great effort on his part.

And then Germany was fumbling at the buttons of Veneziano’s shirt with his left hand, and Veneziano decided to help him out with that, although his hands slipped badly halfway through when Germany’s fingers curled inside him and hit that spot again and  _stayed_  there but finally his shirt was undone, and so Veneziano went for Germany’s next, since it was rumpled and untucked but still not  _off_  and Veneziano could never get tired of seeing Germany without his shirt and besides said shirt was kind of uncomfortable against Veneziano’s chest (and Germany’s pants were definitely uncomfortable against Veneziano’s cock, those had to go as soon as was humanly possible), Germany’s clothes were itchy a lot and maybe Veneziano needed to go along with him next time he bought clothes and offer helpful advice  _and!_  Germany spread his fingers wide, oh that almost hurt but in the good kind of way, the  _really_  good kind of way, and Veneziano almost thumped him on the chest to tell him to get on with it please, his face felt like it was on fire and so did the rest of him and he didn’t have any objections at all to Germany fucking him with his fingers but it wasn’t quite what he’d been banking on so would Germany  _please_  —  
  
What came out was “God!” and then a few curses that Veneziano didn’t even bother to keep track of, he knew any one of them would make the Vatican fume for hours and that was enough, really.  
  
They got the message across. Germany crooked his fingers a few more times, drawing out soft whines with each one, and then a disappointed groan of loss when he drew his fingers out, and Veneziano didn’t even bother to put his leg back down on the floor while he undid Germany’s pants as fast as he could with his fingers shaking, and Germany reached down to help and their hands sort of got in each other’s way for a while but eventually Veneziano managed to pull Germany’s pants and underwear down far enough that Germany could get the condom on, and then Veneziano yelped a little in surprise because instead of turning him around, Germany grabbed him somewhere between his ass and the tops of his thighs on the inside, lifting him up and knocking his legs apart. Not that he minded, Veneziano really  _really_  didn’t mind this at all, he could get very used to it, in fact.  
  
“Would you mind —” Germany’s voice was thick and heavy and he nodded down between them. “Only got two hands.”  
  
Veneziano smiled and reached down between them. It was a bit of a strain on his shoulder and wrist, but he managed to grab hold of Germany’s cock and start easing it in until it was deep enough he could just hold on to Germany’s shoulders instead and brace his back against the wall while Germany slowly lowered him the rest of the way down, evenly and far too slowly. He splayed out his hands, feeling the shifting of Germany’s muscles and not bothering very much with trying to hold back the noises he made when Germany was all the way in.  
  
Or when Germany held still, keeping Veneziano stuck between him and the wall, and Veneziano knew it was half so that Germany could try and keep his composure, but the other half was to try and get Veneziano to lose it.  
  
And it was kind of working, too.  
  
Which, again, wasn’t  _bad_ ; his toes were curling in the air and his arms shook a little and every tiny shift Germany made was really not very tiny when they were this close together, but it would be so much better if Germany would move.  
  
And then —  _oh_  — Germany shifted his grip and stepped the little distance forward that was left and —  _oh!_  — pulled out just enough that when he thrust back in Veneziano saw sparks, he really did, and he tangled one hand in the short hair at the base of Germany’s head and hauled him in for a bruising kiss. Germany responded — responded very well, the impromptu kissing lessons Veneziano liked to spring on him were really paying off although he still didn’t see a reason to stop them — biting softly at Veneziano’s lips, and his hips were getting into the sort of brisk, even, hard cadence that left Veneziano short of breath and his hands held hard, just shy of feeling as though they would leave bruises.  
  
Germany never left bruises, unless Veneziano asked him to.  
  
He didn’t quite break the kiss fully, their lips still touched and he could feel Germany’s breath shudder against his mouth, but he whispered “I won’t break” into Germany’s mouth, and “harder,  _please_ ”, moaning breathlessly when Germany listened to him and sped up and dug his fingers into the soft of Veneziano’s ass, nudging his legs that little bit wider apart.   
  
Veneziano had only one problem with this position: it was very difficult to touch Germany, he felt as though if he moved his hands too much he might fall, but even that wasn’t so bad, because any tiny slip meant that Germany was driven that much further inside him, and one particularly emphatic thrust completely derailed that train of thought and knocked his head back and like this, so close, Veneziano could arch up and try to rub his cock against Germany’s stomach — so whatever issues he may have had with this position probably weren’t that pressing in the first place, although with the way Germany was holding him still it was hard to really get his hips moving. All he could really manage were shallow thrusts and bucks, but really, it was friction and so it was enough.  
  
Delicacy and gentleness were nice, too, of course, when Germany treated him like something precious made of glass and porcelain, but like this — lips dragging along his jaw before teeth closed on Veneziano’s neck, pinned and letting Germany control the pace and  _safe_  — like this, Veneziano’s legs shook and he kept letting out little  _ah — oh —ah!_ s and barely had the presence of mind to wrap his hand around his own cock and start stroking. In one way, it might not have been the best idea, since his other arm felt kind of shaky in its grip around Germany’s shoulders, but in almost every other way he could think of it was a  _very_  good idea, and besides, Germany would hold him up.  
  
Germany half-whispered something in Veneziano’s ear, something in German, and in too heavy of a dialect for Veneziano to parse, preoccupied as he was, but he was pretty sure that whatever it was was something that if Veneziano ever said it to Germany he’d have at least five heart attacks, and he had a pretty good guess anyway, but it was still more the tone of Germany’s voice — breathless, deep and rumbling, almost a growl — that made him arch his back as much as possible and twist his wrist  _so_. He tried to nudge Germany into kissing him again, and fortunately Germany was half-decent at picking up cues in the middle of sex.  
  
Probably he was still doing too much thinking and not enough concentrating on the slide of Germany’s cock in and out of him and how his bulky arms were only just beginning to shake and how Germany would never,  _ever_  drop him in a million years and didn’t need to say so for Veneziano to trust him, and he looked  _adorable_  (what Veneziano could see of him, anyway, in between messy kisses) with his light hair beginning to come ungelled and fall across his forehead and his face red and set in concentration and his mouth open just a bit, breathing  _Venedig, Venedig_  into Veneziano’s skin.   
  
Veneziano answered  _yes, yes, more_  and then Germany hit that spot and there were stars behind Veneziano’s eyelids and something tightening in his belly and he whined, free arm clawing at Germany’s shoulderblades, and then Germany shuddered and stilled and muffled his groan in Veneziano’s shoulder.  
  
It only took a few more strokes before the world whited out for a few seconds for Veneziano, and the tightening in his belly snapped and flooded through all his limbs to the tips of his fingers and toes, and once he could see again he laughed a little dazedly and leaned his head against Germany’s shoulder, feeling Germany’s soft breath against the side of his head.  
  
“Hey, uh, Germany? My feet are probably going to go numb.” Gingerly, Germany lowered him to the floor one leg at a time, and once his feet were on the floor Veneziano decided that really he just didn’t want to stand up, and leaned against Germany.  
  
Germany planted a soft kiss on the top of Veneziano’s head. “It’s getting late, we should probably do something about dinner.”  
  
Sighing, Veneziano snaked his arms around Germany’s waist and half-melted into the warm, strong arms at his back in return. “Mm. Soon. And I’ll make sure you don’t try to sneak back and do more work,” he puffed his cheeks out in mostly-false irritation.  
  
“Promise I won’t.” Germany rubbed at that spot between his shoulders that Veneziano never could reach.  
  
“Double promise?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Veneziano smiled again, nuzzling Germany’s chest, and decided he could trust a double promise.


End file.
